Pride
by Sora no Hairo Yuki
Summary: He hated that stupid pride of hers. Eric


"Dammit! Why couldn't you wait for me?"

He was drunk, very drunk. It was supposed to be his welcome home party after 8 long months in which he had been gone to the ass-crack of the world. Everything was fine in the beginning, catching up on all that he had missed, who was going to what college, who got married, who's dating who, reminiscing about stupid shit he and everyone else did as kids, etc. However, the mood went sour when she showed up with her new boyfriend. He was very confused, very hurt.

"Why the hell are you yelling at _me_, Eric Cartman?"

She was pretty drunk too, but she at least was mentally stable. She knew what she was saying, and she would remember it all when she woke up the next morning without fail. She almost didn't even come to the party until their mutual friends begged her to show up. She was nervous, but relaxed after a few shots of whiskey and at the fact that he didn't catch on right away that the man she brought with her was actually her boyfriend. Soon enough though, he noticed the way the other man would grab her hand, hold her by the waist, and brush her hair away from her face, and it became so obvious.

"You fuckin' told me right before I left that you weren't talking to anyone and that you would wait for me until I came back, you whore!"

It was true. The night before he left, she finally admitted over the phone late at night to having some feelings for him that hadn't gone away from many years before. He angrily asked her why she hadn't told him sooner, but confessed he felt the same way as well. He asked her to wait for him until he came home so they could make things work. She agreed, saying that 8 months was nothing compared to the years she couldn't stop thinking about him. Those were the last words they exchanged for 8 months.

"I would have waited, but when I didn't receive a single letter or anything from you, I figured you had forgotten all about me!"

For the first 4 weeks, she would run to the mailbox. Her heart would pound as she rummaged through the mail, but would sink a little bit when all she would find were bills and advertisements. Her hope would fade with each passing month, and finally leave her fed up after the fourth month. After all, she was only a 19 year girl who had just entered college and had dozens of smart men asking her out daily.

"I was fighting a fuckin' war, Wendy! I had more important shit to do than write you some stupid letters. Did it ever cross your mind that I could have been fuckin' dead?"

She was angry, so very angry. He was the one who made her promise they would write to each other. He was the one who knew her address, but she couldn't write to him since he didn't know what his would be at the time. She had taken pictures of her, his friends, and things that might have interested him just for him, so that if she ever did get a letter from him, she'd be able to write him back and send her smiling face along with a letter.

"Of course, you asshole! Every single day I worried that I would find out you had been killed! Even when I gave up on you, I still worried! I had no idea when exactly you were coming home. I worried up until Kyle called me 3 hours ago to tell me that you were home and they were throwing you a party! So don't you dare give me that shit you….asswipe!"

She almost called him a fatass, but it would only sound ridiculous. A year and a half in the Marines did the former heavyweight some major repair on his physical structure. He was lean, muscular, and well groomed; enough to make her almost regret not waiting, _almost_. Burning tears in her eyes threaten to fall as she glared holes into his face.

"If you still felt that way, then why the hell are you here with Stan?"

He felt so betrayed by his childhood friend and should be girlfriend. Those two weren't good for each other. She deserved someone stronger, someone who would dare to stand against her. Why couldn't she accept that he is the only one who is good for her?

"Because, why the hell should I wait for someone who says they'll do something, but they never do it?"

I'll do anything to go out with you, Wendy. I'll quit smoking cigarettes for you. I'll quit smoking pot for you. I'll pass Algebra 2 for you. I'll graduate for you. I'll write to you. I'll miss you. I'll be looking forward to seeing you when I come home.

"Why the hell should I wait for someone who has done nothing but infect me for the past 5 years?"

She was slightly conscious of the party going on inside, but it hardly mattered compared to the feelings that were pouring out of her. No more tears threatened to fall, but her voice was filled to the brink with hurt. She watched as he turned his head to the side to avoid her poisonous gaze, just as lost, just as hurt.

"Tell me, dammit! Tell me!"

Her demand was met with more silence. She let her restraints weaken a bit, possibly due to the alcohol, and approached him more closely. She clenched her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around his waist. The tears fell. They couldn't stop. He couldn't return the embrace. It would hurt too much, even for a battle-hardened asshole soldier like himself.

"I love you."

She finally said what she wanted to, but couldn't say for the past 5 years. She breathed heavily against his chest. Her conscience and awareness were finally coming back to her, and she pushed herself off of him.

"But I still have my pride."

He frowned. He hated that stupid pride of hers. He blamed it for holding her away from him. He blamed it for the reason why she strayed from him when he was gone. He blamed it for the reason why he was slightly disappointed when he stepped off the plane and she wasn't there to fling her arms around him. He blamed it for the reason why he wasn't fucking her brains out as they speak. It probably would've been the best sex ever, too.

"And I cannot give you a shred of satisfaction, the slightest bit of happiness in having me! After all, you've done nothing but cause my heart pain."

Stupid fucking pride. So many things were going through his mind. He wanted to strangle her, kiss her, smash her face on a window, hold her, rape her, comfort her, make her scream, make her cry, make her laugh, so many things. He could only stare at her though in an emotional state that he couldn't even understand. How was he supposed to know that she loved him? How was he supposed to know that he only made her miserable? How was he supposed to know that she even had a heart?

"We shouldn't be together."

She turned to go back inside. He wouldn't let her.

"You're just gonna walk away? Don't even try to give me that shit! If you walk away now, you'll still be bound to me by regret."

The same was true for him as well, but he had his pride too. He watched as she turned to look at him with understanding eyes. They both knew that it was now, or carry each other on their minds for the rest of their lives.

"Not a word to Stan, you hear me? And this is merely to get rid of the sexual tension."

"Didn't you take care of that when we were, like what, ten?"

"Shut up, asshole. Where's your car?"

She took his hand and pulled him to the driveway. He smirked. He won, for once, even though it wasn't his own victory completely. She was everything, horrible and amazing. He pressed her against the side of his car before they could even get in, and there was no way in hell she would ever get away again.


End file.
